


Departure: Salgin: Near the Item Shop

by moody_trans_detective



Series: Rogueass Galaxy [3]
Category: Rogue Galaxy
Genre: Multi, Threesome - F/M/M, sexual commerce, technically not twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:01:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27067564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moody_trans_detective/pseuds/moody_trans_detective
Summary: Jaster remembers bartering for his first weapons at the start of the Longardian occupation.
Relationships: Jaster Rogue/Marco/Halla
Series: Rogueass Galaxy [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956043
Kudos: 1





	Departure: Salgin: Near the Item Shop

“Whoa,” Jaster muttered to himself, still reeling from everything that had happened. It was all so fast now, the beasts, fighting the giants with the mysterious Hooded Man. There was something about that guy…

He’d given Jaster his sword. Jaster couldn’t figure it out. All the guy seemed to want from him in return was for Jaster to kick some monster ass. Which he could do, but…He looked down at the blade in his hand.

The angry fever of buzzing in the air. Dragonflies. Jaster whirled, leapt, let the blade choose its own path through the air to its foes. He sprayed innards and legs, so many legs, the beasts’ blood soaking into the street. When he landed neatly he heard a whistle from behind him.

“Nice form. Nice ass.”

Jaster recognized the voice and it made his pulse rush in a way fighting beasts didn’t. He turned.

“Marco,” he said. He crossed the street to where Marco stood under an awning, out of the sun. He looked in a good mood. He must have gotten out of running his father’s shop again for the day.

“How’d you get your hands on a fine blade like that?” asked Marco. His hand strayed to Jaster’s ass, slid over it smoothly. In the shadow of the awning, no one could see the action.

“What do you mean, how?” asked Jaster. He had a feeling Marco was implying something. When Marco gave his cheek a squeeze, Jaster had more than a feeling he was implying something.

“Did I say how? I meant who.” Marco grinned. “What on Rosa did you let him—her?—do to you? I haven’t seen a sword as nice as that one in years.”

He meant since the before the Longardians arrived, but he didn’t say it. Jaster soured to him, pulled away.

“Just because I have a new sword doesn’t mean I slept around for it.”

“Please.” Marco leaned in again. “I _know_ you, Jaster.”

And Jaster knew him. While not terribly jealous, Marco was competitive and a little prideful. And they both knew where Jaster had gotten his other weapons.

A hot, dusty wind sprang up, like the kind that day a few years back. The wind had brought Longardians then like it brought beasts now. Jaster had been restless, worked up, needing to do something, anything but sit around and wait for events to play out. He’d gone into Salgin, to Shilhawa’s shop.

Shilhawa hadn’t been there. The man was off trying to negotiate with the Longardians, for all the good it would do him—he’d either get screwed over anyway, or he’d emerge a traitor, in bed with the enemy. Jaster hadn’t thought that much about it then. He’d been intent on one thing: Weapons.

Raul was ageing, and Jaster wanted to defend him, the church, anyone who needed it. It had been the only thing he could think of doing, the only way to help. Be armed. Be prepared. And to do that, he needed weapons.

“Ah, come on,” said Marco as Jaster turned away from him now. “I remember you walking your cocky ass into my father’s shop. You were willing to compromise on the price.”

Yes, with Marco’s sister. Jaster had flirted mercilessly with her, daring her to sell him a weapon that would impress him. Hoping she’d take something other than money for what he’d wanted. She’d flirted back.

“I was looking for a deal, not dick,” said Jaster, though they’d overlapped in this case and they both knew it. He pushed back against Marco’s asshole grin now. “Anyway, it was a steal once you and Halla started fighting over me.”

Marco’s smirk slipped. Back then, he’d seen how eager Jaster had been as easily as his twin sister had. Back then, he’d started up flirting, ostensibly to sell Jaster a gun. Jaster had been in there for a sword.

“For someone with a face like yours, I don’t mind lowering the price of this blaster even more,” Marco had said.

“Lowering the price!” Halla had rolled her eyes. “For a small favor, I’ll give you this sword for whatever amount you name.”

“Small favor!” Marco had spluttered. “In our father’s shop?”

“I was thinking upstairs in my bed,” she’d said.

“I like the sound of that,” Jaster had said. “I don’t mind paying in non-traditional currency.”

“Well,” Marco had said. “For a small favor to _me_ , I’ll give you this blaster free of charge.”

Halla had glared at him. Jaster had barely been able to believe his luck, but he knew when to move on a deal like this.

“You know,” he’d said, “I just can’t decide which I like better.”

“My room is cleaner,” Halla had said.

“I wouldn’t want to turn down either of these deals.” Jaster had enjoyed teasing them.

“You have to pick,” Marco had said.

Jaster had grinned at them, had leaned in close between the twins.

“No,” he’s said. “I think you have to pick. It’s both deals or none at all.”

The twins had looked at each other, appalled.

“What—both of us as once?” Marco had asked.

“We’ll make it work,” Halla had answered.

And that was how Jaster had found himself in a clean bed, sandwiched between two twins. Their wants had been simple—his cock, his ass. He’d taken the conesheepskin Halla had given him and returned it to her wrapped around his cock. He’d slid inside her so smoothly, so easily, she must have wanted him from the moment he’d set foot in that shop. She’d been so warm and wet, flushed from desire and the kind of high that could only arise from trading your father’s weaponry for a bit of dick. Jaster had kissed her, eased himself in and out for only a few good thrusts before Marco had joined in.

He'd been a little more aggressive, like he’d been annoyed he’d had to wait his turn. When he breached Jaster’s ass it was with a fumble and a hard push, enough for Jaster to gasp and clutch at Halla. She’d dug her nails into Jaster’s shoulder, pulled him harder into her, and came, the weight of two men thrusting on her pressing right, the thought of Jaster being penetrated even as he was inside her helping her along. But Jaster had known she could come harder than that.

He’d pulled back, his ass taking Marco even deeper, and angled to slide a hand between them. With a thumb he circled Halla’s wet clit, playing it until she’d come again, then immediately thrust into her. His blood had pumped hard and hot and he’d wanted so badly to come inside her but held off. Jaster had always felt he should come last in a transaction such as this, despite enjoying it, and at least one of the people he was fucking hadn’t reached climax.

Jaster had shifted his positioning some to get his rhythm down better. When he’d buried himself inside Halla he’d slid off Marco’s cock; when he’d pulled out he’d forced his ass over Marco’s shaft. It had been difficult as hell to hold off when every motion had been one of intense pleasure, but Jaster had managed. Marco had dug his fingers into Jaster’s ass as he’d come, not letting Jaster pull away. He’d had to have been saving a decent load since Jaster counted long seconds before Marco released his ass and pulled out.

Marco had slunk off before Jaster had finished, embarrassed maybe. He’d given Halla his full attention after that, flipped her over onto her stomach and fucked her, reaching his hand around to tease her until she’d tensed beneath him and clutched the sheets. Jaster had allowed himself to come then, allowed her orgasm to squeeze a magnificent one out of him.

“By the kings of old,” she’d moaned. “Daaaamn.”

Jaster had pulled out, impressed with the amount he’d been able to deposit in the conesheepskin, thinking he’d better finish up these transactions and get home before whatever Marco had left in him found its way back out.

“Do I still get to name my price?” he’d asked, and grinned as Halla had moaned.

Now, here under the awning, Marco’s expression stretched thin.

“You know how much trouble I was in when my father figured out I’d just _given_ one of his swords away?” He reached out toward Jaster again. “You owe me.”

Jaster pulled away. There were other people in Salgin to fuck. He’d already lost three of his clients; what was pissing off a fourth person? He didn’t much care for Marco anyway. Not with how he’d turned out over the past few years.

“Sorry, we had a deal,” said Jaster. He grinned. “No refunds.”

Then he took up the Desert Seeker and strode back out into the street.


End file.
